by Dan Davis
Fifty years. I have not been home in fifty years. Half my life.
In my mind’s eye, I saw the hall of Ashbury Manor filled with smiling faces. I recalled sneaking into the kitchens of Duffield Castle to snatch some of the stewed beef before it was spooned onto the platters and being caught by the cook. He cracked me on the skull with an enormous wooden spoon. Standing there on the busy waterfront I laughed out loud, like a madman. I was filled with emotion. So much so that I almost wept.
Fifty years.
“Here, Thomas,” I said. “You must share this with me. This is the taste of England.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Then perhaps we should have stayed in France.”
England had been in turmoil for decades but the rebellious barons had finally been crushed and the remaining rebels cornered and destroyed by King Henry’s son, Prince Edward. The prince was already in his late twenties and a man in the prime of his life. A man who had been campaigning against the rebels for years, and who had fought in half a dozen pitched battles. Once the rebellion was over, and the country was finally at peace, Edward left on his crusade which would end in his attempted assassination at the hands of the subjugated Ismaili fedayin.
King Henry grew ill and died when his son was on the way back to England. When I had left, fifty years before, Henry had been a young boy under the regency of William Marshal. While I had remained ageless in my absence, he had ruled for decades and died a decrepit old man. I was pleased that he had lived and ruled for so long but I felt very guilty for abandoning him when he had clearly needed me. If I had stayed in England, or returned sooner, I would have been on hand to kill the vampires de Montfort and Despenser and end their rebellions.
That guilt was one reason why I perhaps lost a little fervour for the aims of the Order of the White Dagger. When Edward became king, I found myself fighting for him against the Welsh and later against the Scots. It was simple to find the employment of a lord to keep me funded and occupied, and at other times I was paid as a mercenary directly by the Crown. Always, I said to my peers and lords that I had grown up in the Holy Land, the grandson of an English knight named Richard of Ashbury.
No man had heard of him.
Once Acre fell, in 1291, I knew I would have to come up with a new story to tell. But as long as you fought well and did not seek to climb above a low station, few men cared where you came from. Everyone always assumed the worst. Why else would a wandering Englishman be cagey about his origins if he was not some form of criminal? But a man-at-arms’ trade is the murder of the king’s enemies, and so sinners were always welcome.
In all the fighting, I pushed my knowledge and experience onto the men I fought with. I had learned from the Mongols that mobility was vitally important in war. Likewise, I championed the use of the small horses called hobelars as the best means for moving men rapidly in a campaign. At first, they told me I was mad but over the years I saw the changes happening until men treated it as so obvious a thing it was not worth so much as commenting on. Likewise, thanks to my experience with the Wealden archers against the French and witnessing and hearing accounts of the Mongol arrow storms, I pushed always for bringing more and more archers with us. Again, at the start of Edward’s reign, I was mocked for wasting resources on such men but, in just a few decades’ time, we could not recruit enough of them.
In between campaigns, we searched for the immortals of Christendom that William had created.
Stephen wormed his way into London and began to quietly establish himself as a man of standing, though he had to be warned repeatedly to stop bringing so much attention to himself. My dear Eva set herself up first in Exeter, possibly because it was so far away from London, and then in Bristol. When we crossed paths, we both pretended that we were happy. Both of them inconspicuously cultivated contacts with the itinerant folks who returned regularly to the cities. Through the words passed between them, Thomas and I tracked down reports of bloody crimes and suspicious outlaws. For some years, Stephen and Eva would swap houses and trade lives, each pretending to be the relative or descendent of the other. For a few years between wars, I myself ruled the townhouse in London that we had taken for our order. It only confirmed what I had already known; that I was not well suited to city life.
Finding the spawn of William was hard work. Most leads led nowhere and it would be some years before we found a true vampire once again. It would be in the reign of Edward’s grandson, Edward III, and during his wars against the Kingdom of France. After the elder Edward died, the crown passed to Edward II who was rather a disappointment, to say the least. He very nearly undid all of his father’s gains.
But, just as the soft Henry had produced the iron-hard Edward, so his weakling son produced a lion in his turn.
Ever since he was a young man, and before any of his famous deeds were done, I had great affection for Edward III. Despite the protestations from Thomas, Stephen, and Eva that I was abandoning my oaths to the Order of the White Dagger, I had thrown my lot in with him early on and I was at his side when we seized the would-be usurper, Roger Mortimer.
And I would fight for him when we campaigned against the French, defeating them time and again thanks to our mobility, our unity of action, and the power of our archers.
It would be at our great victory at Crecy that I discovered a foul vampire on the battlefield and the Order of the White Dagger would bend our will to capturing and killing the monstrous bastard. Our quest would be interrupted by the disaster of the Black Death and for the sake of the Order I would have to journey through unprecedented death and horror in the hopes of finding salvation.
But that is a story for another time.
I had not known how much I had missed England until I had returned there. From the savages of the east to the madness of the Greeks, and the volatility of the Italians, I had been amongst strangers for half my life. Returning to my own country, campaigning alongside men who were just like me, it made me never want to leave ever again. In fact, I would be ready to venture forth again after a mere couple of centuries but for the time being, all I knew was that it was my land. I was an Englishman. And the English were my people.
Finally, I was home.
***
AUTHOR’S NOTE
The story continues in Vampire Knight - the Immortal Knight Chronicles Book Four. Coming 2018.
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BOOKS BY DAN DAVIS
The Galactic Arena Series
Science Fiction
Inhuman Contact (Prequel 1)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MG47ANM
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MG47ANM
Onca’s Duty (Prequel 2)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MR96YGW
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MR96YGW
Orb Station Zero (Book 1)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01KSJTPYO
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01KSJTPYO
Earth Colony Sentinel (Book 2)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B073XBLFZV
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B073XBLFZV
The Immortal Knight Chronicles
Historical Fiction - with Vampires
Vampire Crusader (Book 1)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0157LXEEA
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0157LXEEA
Vampire Outlaw (Book 2)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CKU0VJM
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01CKU0VJM
Vampire Khan (Book 3)
Vampire Knight (Book 4) Coming 2018
Gunpowder & Alchemy
Flintlock Fantasy
White Wind Rising (Book 1)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QH0PIVI
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00QH0PI
VI
Dark Water Breaking (Book 2)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00ZOARVMG
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00ZOARVMG
Green Earth Shaking (Book 3)
US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B018THC1LQ
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B018THC1LQ
For a complete and up-to-date list of Dan’s available books, visit:
http://dandavisauthor.com/books/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dan Davis writes science-fiction, fantasy, and historical fiction stories packed with exciting action, captivating characters and intriguing themes.
He loves historical fiction by Steven Pressfield, Simon Scarrow, and Patrick O'Brian. He has read all of Bernard Cornwell’s books more times than can possibly be healthy.
He is a husband and father living in Essex, UK.
Please contact Dan here:
WEBSITE: dandavisauthor.com/
TWITTER: twitter.com/DanDavisWrites
FACEBOOK: facebook.com/dandavisauthor
EMAIL: [email protected]
Thanks so much for reading